


Once in a hundred thousand years

by katiebuttercup



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F word, F/M, Family Bonding, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sibling Bonding, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiebuttercup/pseuds/katiebuttercup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only happens once every few hundred years and Scotland is loathe to admit it, but sometimes England is the best little sister in the world</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A night out

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters belong to me
> 
> This is also quite similar to love is a verb a wonderful chapter from "feel the fear" series it was not my intention to write something so similar but if the author believes this is too much like their own work I will take it down.

It only happens once every few hundred years but sometimes England is the best little sister in the world. 

She takes one look at him from across the room, noting the tense set of his mouth and the storm brewing in his eyes and instantly she cuts short her conversation with America and his ambassadors with little more than a polite "please excuse me" and then her tiny hand is in the crook of his arm and she is tugging him away ignoring America's call. 

Scotland feels a little smug, he has always been vocal about the sharp shift of power in England's relationship with America, but now he can't help admire the way she had dismissed the younger nation, it takes balls to walk away from the super power, but then no matter what he thought about England she had never lacked balls. 

They don't speak until they leave the conference centre, this one held in his own city, the light is dimming, the city getting ready for the evening.

Hours later he and England are sitting on a stone bench a fish dinner from the chippy between them and England is sucking cola from a straw in a vain attempt to sober herself up. 

The one point of brotherly pride he allowed himself was his sisters ability to hold her drink, she had out drunk his rugby team the last time she had visited and he couldn't help but smile every time he remembered the look on the faces of his teammates when England had downed her pint in one go, and then with a sweet smile on her face demanded another. No one could quite figure out how the slight, well spoken English girl had managed to drink Scotland's body weight in alcohol. 

"I'm in love with France," he muttered, spearing a chip with his fork and chewing doggedly. 

England was silent for moment, the ties between the old countries were so intricate that it sometimes felt impossible to define one without the other and right now scotland found it suffocating. 

He hated this. 

He and France had soldiered on happily for hundreds of years, happy to fall in and out of bed together as they pleased but things were shifting, France had begun texting him for more than simply business or snarling about England it had become....personal and Scotland was sure he didn't like it. 

Pretty sure.

Fairly sure. 

He was fucked. 

He didn't know why he'd come to England about it, out of all his siblings she had the most up gain from Scotland's misery, but somehow he knew she wouldn't. Things had begun to shift...ancient prejudice and anger was slowly diminishing, it didn't mean he would not fight just as strongly for his independence it just meant....he was old and tired and maybe he just wanted his sister back, if only for every other weekend or once a month when they met up to hang out. He knew that England shared his love of the outdoors and would accompany him on his long walks even though she would complain bitterly about it but Scotland knew, like him, England didn't like to be contained indoors. As he belonged to the earth she belonged to the sea and she liked nothing better than a brisk walk along the coast. 

It was how they bonded, silently of course but it was something and they both made time for it. 

Scotland breathed in a deep breath scowling when he saw two young lads eyeballing England's long legs revealed by her short dress. It was conservative by the standards of the day but still enough to draw attention and Scotland scowled, England was his fucking sister for gods sake . 

Annoyed, Scotland shrugged off his jumper and thrust it at England. 

"Put some fucking clothes on!" 

England rolled her eyes but she complied, the jumper obscuring her dress completely.  
At least her bare shoulders weren't on show. 

"Didja tell fr....France?" Alice asked, her normal cut glass accent slurred with the amount of alcohol she had drunk and Scotland watched amused as England attempted to catch the straw as it bobbed in the coke bottle. 

"And say what?" 

England shrugged, none of the siblings were good at expressing their emotions except for Wales who was, perhaps, too good and therefore a target for England and Scotland to mock him. 

He wished that he could go back, when the alliance between him and France had been a simple tactic to piss of England but over the years England had fallen away, stopped being an excuse and then it was just him and France and this feeling that had slowly grown overtime. 

He didn't even know how France felt, he didn't treat Scotland like he had his other lovers there were no words of love or romantic gestures not that Scotland particularly wanted them but it also left him feeling empty, he had no yardstick to measure where he stood with the other nation. 

"Y'know there's just you right?" England said addressing the coke bottle. 

"What?" 

Scotland had never expected monogamy, France had never been built for it. It was one of the reasons France and England had never worked out, and god he didn't want to think about that. 

"That had to mean something right?" England said, she drew her legs up and rested her chin on her knees. 

"I dunno." Scotland said, an uncomfortable feeling settling on the back of his neck. 

"What about America?" Scotland asked, needing to deflect the pressure. England squinted, gem green eyes narrowing in confusion.

"What?"  
Scotland thought back to the way the boy's eyes followed England, large and sincere and full of yearning that the nation didn't know how to express and wondered how she could be so blind 

And then he thought about France.

"Nothing" Scotland murmured, it wasn't his place to say anything and England wouldn't see something until she wanted to see it.  
England yawned, and Scotland forced himself not to smirk, 

"C'mon time for bed," Scotland said, dragging his sister up.

X

Scotland stumbled to the living room, trying to stop the world spinning around him. He paused watching as the England shape stirred on his sofa.

"Oh I'm vibrating," England murmured, looking around in confusion as she petted the sofa in an attempt to find the source of the buzzing. Finally she pulled the mobile from the depths of the cushions. 

She frowned at the screen and sighed before sliding her finger across the screen to answer the call.

"Hellooo?" The word was dragged out playfully, she was obviously still a little tipsy. A moment later England frowned, taking the phone away from her ear, Scotland could hear Americas exuberant voice on the other end, clearly worried. 

Alice brushed hair away from her forehead as she fielded Americas questions as her fingers brushed her cheeks she encountered the kebab that she had bought on the way home, obviously she had slept on it. 

"Good lord I've mutated," England muttered as she scraped the mess off her cheek. Finally after listening to America ramble for a few moments said quietly and clearly; 

"I'm hanging up now." She tossed the phone onto the table and flopped back, "I'm wrecked." 

She turned her head, appraising Scotland, "I need a bacon butty," she decided. Heaving herself up of the sofa and into the kitchen. Scotland followed her, bacon buttys were the one thing England couldn't mess up in the kitchen. 

"America's gonna be pissed you missed that meeting this morning," Scotland said neutrally. 

"That's why we have diplomats, don't need me at all, just diplomatic stuff. 'Sides this is the first meeting I've ever missed, I think he can deal with it."

Scotland wanted to say that it wasn't the politics that had worried America but he didn't have the words. Instead he watched England fry the bacon, breathing in the aroma, his hangover already easing. 

The siblings ate in silence a small haven of tranquility in a long history where they weren't England and Scotland but simply two siblings eating breakfast.


	2. Digits and memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis is the nation of love he shouldn't be staring at his phone desperately searching for a muse..but he is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of Scotland/France there will be more next 
> 
> England's isolation is about the discussion to leave Europe headed by UKIP I am not a fan of them but I want to explore England needing to retreat from the world, her fear of getting hurt and hurting others (empire and white colonial guilt)

Francis stares at his phone for a moment before deleting the text message. He has nothing to say, no gossip to impart no news not even a gripe against dear Angleterre. No other reason other than the need to hear his lovers voice. 

 

It is a dangerous compulsion one he had hoped he had shrugged off centuries ago and yet....

Scotland had always been the exception that proved the rule in Francis long list of conquests that included his younger sister, however briefly. 

Scotland fell so far out of his usual type that he felt as though he were floundering. The step from casual lovers to something much more intimate was usually easy but Francis felt on unsteady ground. 

Scotland was....

Scotland was broad and handsome and sharp, rugged and everything France wasn't. Everything France considered to be important, style, smooth talking and elegance was little more than decoration to Scotland, frippery that was to be cast off. Scotland admired strength and spirit and he had in spades that infernal Kirkland wit that could cut you down at the knees. 

And what was France but frippery? it had earned him wealth and fine things but it would not keep Scotland and more than anything France wanted to keep Scotland. 

The conversation around him began to change as the meeting began to start, and his eyes travelled to the Kirkland siblings as they settled into their place, a unit against the world despite their private disagreements. There was no chance of speaking to him before the meeting commenced and so Francis forced his mind back to the present. 

X

The meeting was blissfully short and Francis suddenly found himself beside Scotland. 

"So you heading back to Paris tonight?"

Francis nodded, "Yes for a while until the next round of meetings"

Scotland laughed, rocking back on his heels.

"They do go on, I thought England was exaggerating about the length of 'em. Not good when you've got a hangover I can tell ya"

It's a perfect opportunity to ask about the strange behaviour the kirkland siblings exhibited the day before, leaving straight after the meeting and then Angleterres uncharacteristic absence from her meeting with America that morning. The young nation had been incredibly irritated (read concerned and anxious) but France had stopped himself from intervening. America had learned to hide his emotions better in the course of his short life yet his feelings for Angleterre had never been clearer, although he was certain that England had not noticed. His most beloved enemy was such a curious creature; able to discern the slightest change in the political landscape and adapt and yet when it came to the heart she was as simple as that child France had found in that meadow all those years ago. And of course there was her surprising turn of isolationism that had taken her. France didn't know how much that was to do with the political parties in her country and how much was to do with England's own shattered heart after the war. The island nation was strong but the blow of both the war and losing her empire was devastating and he could see England starting to close in on herself, even from her most trusted allies such as himself and America and he knew that America had seen it too. The boy really was perceptive but the more he tried to reach for England the more she pulled away, old scars vulnerable and open. 

And thoughts of England inevitably drew him back to her brother.

"It is the way of things nowadays I suppose," France picks up the conversation smoothly even if his lapse in concentration in only momentary. It's happening a lot in Scotland's company he finds. 

"Fancy some company sometime?" 

France can only marvel at Scotland's forwardness so unlike his own brand if charm but it works and France can only nod. 

"With such company how can I say no?"

Scotland grins wide, there is no pretense with him and it is refreshing after so many daliances that he has had, but Francis fears he has worn the mask too long. 

He glances back at England and America deep in conversation, notes America's happy smile now that England is back at his side. It is strange as America embraces a wider approach to the world England is contemplating retreating, trying to rebuild herself in this new world, the special relationship strained now. 

It is an odd combination an ancient nation and a fairly new one but if anyone could pull it off he is sure they can, he glances at Scotland, both so old and scarred their history entertained so deeply it is a familiar and comforting presence in his head. It should be easier to say these things they have nothing to hide and yet it is not.


	3. Lazy days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein scotland watches Braveheart and Wales and England take the piss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it can be argued that the British empire wasn't responsible and that she let terrible things befall her empire ie Ireland and India but for the themes in this story I think it works. I am in noway whitewashing the terrible things the empire inflicted on people and nations.
> 
> Final score is on Saturdays and relates the scores of all the football (soccer) games that happen over the day.

I still don't anything and especially not Braveheart 

Wales chanced a glance to his right, England sat in her favourite armchair legs crossed with her mobile phone in her lap. He and England had been texting each other throughout the movie but Scotland didn't seem to have noticed, enthralled as he was by the action on screen.

Wales had been nervous at first, worried that his older brothers choice of Braveheart would antagonise England and would start a fight but England had merely rolled her eyes. Apparently the film was far enough away from historical accuracy to not cause offense, although England had proclaimed "that never happened," or "I would never do that!" For comic affect and then grudgingly "okay that I did," 

That had been an hour ago, Scotland had silenced England with a glare and that was when the texting had begun. 

Wales settled back into the sofa, if asked he would vehemently deny enjoying the weekends spent at his siblings houses and he would deny ever acknowledging even silently that hanging out with England was fun. She was surprisingly humorous and good natured when relaxed and he had enjoyed their texting throughout the movie. 

But that didn't mean he'd ever say it out loud. 

"Is there tea on the go?" Scotland asked as the movie wound down, Final score would be on soon and even though none of them supported any teams it was a habit they had gotten into. 

England sighed and unfurled her legs, Scotland's tea was far too strong and Wales's tea was too milky. England was a happy medium and was the go to tea person. 

The brothers waited in silence watching the BBC indent whilst England clattered around in the kitchen. 

It was nice. 

Nice to have his sisters attention, now focused inwards rather than expansion of her empire. He didn't miss the British empire but he realised now that he did miss England, Alice, his baby sister. 

Sometimes he thought it was like his sister had a split personality on one hand was the domineering, callous empire and on the other was England but he had learned that those were the masks England had fashioned for herself, a protective armour that kept everyone away even her siblings. 

He blamed Rome for taking away his sister and poisoning her heart against them and planting the seed of imperialism inside of her. 

But as much as the change in England was for the better he was also worried about her, he knew Scotland did too. One thing that had not changed was England's responsible streak. Say what you would about the empire but England too met responsibilities seriously and now it seemed she was taking the debt crisis on her shoulders as well. 

As soon as Scotland had seen the tower of paperwork stacked on the coffee table he had immediately picked them up and dumped them unceremoniously in England's study and replaced the papers with his feet, England hated feet on the furniture but it had worked and after a few hours England had stopped glancing guiltily at the study. 

Wales great fully took a sip of the tea once England returned, settling into her seat again and Wales let himself relax, enjoying the last few hours he had left with his family before they went their own separate ways again.


	4. For the good of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alice is good at putting other things first

Alice is good at putting everyone else first, of course her siblings would take umbridge at that. Hell, America and most of the world would too. 

Alice had been a bitch, admittedly she had been the queen bitch, ruler of over half the world. But she hadn't, not really. She had been constrained by the whims of her bosses just as the most lowly country and more often than not England had raged at what was demanded of her, everytime she was forced to bang another nail into the coffin that was her relationships with her siblings, everytime she violently oppresses another group the mantra had always been

It's for the good of the empire. 

What England, or even Alice wanted was irrelevant, she had her duty and obeyed almost without question. 

It was America who had begun it, that little boy who had charmed England the moment she had stepped foot onto the new world, that she had foolishly let herself care about, like all her colonies afterwards. 

England had loved them all but the British empire had seem only commodities, jewels and riches and power. 

She had failed spectacularly in separating the two entities of her being and so she had lost them all. Many suspected that England mourned the loss of power and in a way she did, she had felt safe in her empire, finally at no one else's mercy but her own but that had been a lie in and of itself. Alice herself had been no freer then her colonies. 

As the British Empire grew she hid Alice away, that hurt, frightened little girl who had simply wanted to fit in, before Rome took her and scarred her and taught her to thirst for an Empire of her own instead of her siblings. 

The British empire had destroyed nearly all ties that England held dear and now in the aftermath has left England alone with the consequences feeling as adrift and helpless in this new world order as she had felt centuries ago when watching the Vikings approach her rugged little island. 

The empire had been priceless but England felt worthless a little girl caught playing in her mothers dressing up box. Silly little girl dreams.

She had never set out to be a tyrant, but then who did? She had gone out into the world with the best intentions but had ultimately cast them off, she had been greedy and immoral and now, now she had no one to blame for the emptiness inside her but herself. 

She wondered just how far that little girl on the beach of her childhood had really come. She had put on masks in her lifetime had reached dizzying heights that would never be reached again it that little girl? 

No that little girl hadn't travelled far at all. 

The one thing that both the British Empire, England and Alice shared was that they clung on too long and were left behind. 

And England is so tired of being left behind.


	5. Washing machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England has a dodgy washing machine and Scotland is determind to fix it- it's a shame the Kirkland siblings don't put as much effort into fixing their own problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erin isNorthern Ireland 
> 
> Kaitlyn (mentioned) is Southern Ireland

"Does he know what he is doing?" 

Erin whispered resting her chin on England's shoulder as they watched their brother dismantle the washing machine. The kitchen had been pronounced a no go area and so all the tea making facilities had been moved to the living room where England had been making sure to keep Scotland in tea while he fixed the problem. Alice almost wished she hadn't told Scotland that on the last spin the machine had emitted a strange noise but Scotland was the fixer in the family and if there was a techincal job to do he would do it and took offence when England had wanted to call a professional.

And so here they were, England, Wales and Northern Ireland confined to the living room until Scotland deemed the job done. 

"I'm sure alba knows what he's doing he's very good at this sort of thing," England said loyally.

Erin shook her head but dug out her phone and snapped a picture of Scotland or more appropriately Scotland's arse. 

"What are you doing?" England asked quietly so that Scotland wouldn't hear. 

"Just sending Francis a little present." 

England took the phone and began tapping. 

"It would be a shame if he received this during a meeting with Germany." England said barely able to keep a straight face. 

"You wouldn't!" Erin hissed, her own voice coloured with mirth. 

Erin leaned over as England captioned the picture. 

"You're welcome!"

"Okay I think it's done," Scotland grunted as he emerged from the depths of the washing machine. England hastily shoved the phone into Erin's hands who in turn fumbled to hide the offending object behind her back.

Scotland frowned at his younger sisters who wore identical innocent looks. 

England recovered first, "thanks Alba"

Scotland grunted in response still suspicious but with nothing to pin on his siblings decided to let it go. 

"You know I fancy a cuppa!" Erin said quickly. 

"Tea all round then," England said hurrying back into the living room. 

Erin bounced on her feet, it wasn't that she didn't love her siblings but she didn't have the intense bond that England shared with Wales and Scotland even when they hated each other they loved each other so fiercely Sometimes she felt that her own struggle with her twin made relationships with her other siblings difficult. She knew that England was wracked with guilt over her own part in the troubles and met often with kaitlyn to resolve their issues and slowly a resolution looked more and more possible. Erin knew that they were both working for a better future and she tried to believe that one day it would pay off. 

"So you and France?"

England had warned her to stay off the topic but England was so far in denial over her own love life that Erin had opted to ignore the advice. The problem with the kirkland's she had found that even if the status quo was less than comfortable they would rather stay there instead of trying to love forward. 

Scotland was scared that the finely balanced act he and France had developed would fall if he tried for something more, the idea that any affection he had would be rejected and England....England was so full of guilt and heartache she couldn't see what a wonderful future she could have if she simply let go and let herself love America but she wouldn't. England thrived on control, especially of herself. 

Letting herself fall in love meant letting herself feel vulnerable and England felt vulnerable enough as it was. 

Erin pulled herself from her own thoughts, it would take more that a picture of Alice's butt to fix her relationship with America, although Erin didn't think it could hurt, although she didn't think England would appreciate it at least. 

Francis would smooth over any objections Scotland would have. 

"None of your business missy!" Scotland growled cuffing her softly. 

"But you can't hide forever. I mean England's washing machine isn't going to break down every weekend you're going to have to face him sometime."

"Look, Francis and me see each other enough we don't need to be in each others pockets all the damn time. Sides were not even together."

There was definite undertone in Scotland's tone, Ireland ignored the gruff anger as it was essentially his default setting. 

"You've wasted over seven hundred year officially god knows how much longer you've wasted, don't you think it's time to get over it. I mean it's like a long episode of hollyoaks."

"Don't compare my life to that shite piece of telly."

Ireland cocked her head. "Easternders then," 

"Shut your gob," Scotland advised, but he was smiling. 

"Hey what would England and Americas soap be?" Erin asked. 

"Why don't you ask her?" Scotland asked cheekily. Erin went white. 

"I'm okay," 

"That's what I thought."


	6. International relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiku weighs in on Alice's relationship with Alfred

Japan's gardens are exquisite and it is always a joy for England to take a turn about them, even better to do so in such lovely company. 

 

England watches the beautiful pink blossoms on the tree away in the breeze and breathes, she feels calm here, at peace, far enough from home and Amer- politics that she can let her guard down, until of course

"Alfred visited me recently, a most enlightening conversation"

England looked at her companion, it was unusual for nations to discuss the meetings they had with other countries but England realised for many she and America were sometimes interchangeable, she knew their relationship meant that they shared a great deal more than was necessary but she couldn't think why Kiku would mention meeting Alfred. 

"We spoke about many things but one of the most in depth was about you. Oh he tried to pass it off as casual but the young ones are not good at hiding."

 

England swallowed, an aching feeling settling over her joints, her heartbeat suddenly seemed clearer in her ears. 

"Why would he mention me?"

"Oh it was but simple talk. He was relating to me how glad he was that you were his ally and that he could trust someone so implicitly and that wounds such as the ones you share between you have healed a not so subtle hint about my own relationship with him."

"The war is long over and none of us are what we once were"

Japan nodded, "true enough and I would say that is a good thing."

"Hmmm"

"The world is vastly different from when I was a child end even from when you were. Power ebbs and flows like the tide and each of us must play our parts." Japan regarded England through lidded eyes

"Even when we believe our parts are over"

England felt colour rise to her cheeks she didn't like that Japan had put a finger so elegantly on England's deepest fear- that she was no longer needed or wanted, and those feelings intensified as she struggled to find her own niche in the world. 

"I am glad that America thinks so highly of our friendship he is truly remarkable and I am glad I had a little hand in his making but he has other more important relations to foster."

"I am admittedly not as close as many but I see no other relations so important to our young friend as yours. Perhaps it stretched beyond let us say conventional boundaries"

It is uncomfortably close to something that Scotland had eluded to months back but England had been dunk enough she had hadn't paying attention, caught up as she was in her brothers on going drama with Francis but here now it settled inside England's chest.

The idea at America harboured romantic feelings for her was absurd and highly illogical and it made England feel something that she had promised herself she wouldn't do after the war. Feeling had led her to disaster, had led her to become vulnerable and open and besides the last time she had let Alfred close he had ripped the heart out of her. 

But of course that wound was closed and England didn't begrudge America his freedom, she was proud of him but suddenly she was forced to see him not as a young colony to protect as a man and a nation and... 

But it was all foolishness. 

America was her friend, it was highly foolish for others to misconstrue the nature of that friendship. England hasn't been in love for over a hundred years and she had no intention of doing so now especially with, well anyone. She related her feelings to kiku, happy that her voice only wavered once.


	7. Pictures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America contemplates letting go and england finds herself looking at an old picture with new eyes

Sometimes America thinks it would be easier to let go, it's not as if he hasn't heard well meaning advice from practically everyone. Hell even Ludwig had gotten his two cents worth in.

The general idea had boiled down to: get out while you still can. 

And America was young he knows that hanging onto someone who doesn't feel the same way is wrong but he can't help it.

It's England.

His life began with her and his life apparently had no desire to change that. He had loved her for what felt like forever when in actuality had been only a few hundred years and in the lifespan of someone like England it probably felt like a blink of an eye.

America felt as though each second had been a hundred years.

Francis had known, had always known and to his credit hadn't mentioned it to anyone else but he had seen that volitile young colony and had seen into his heart and had known the truth. Oh he had yearned for freedom to be his own person that was true but in his heart he had wanted England.

They had been apart for so long after that and America had tried to block out the pain, it had worked, being a young nation was hard, harder than America could ever had imagined. There had been plenty of times when he had wanted to turn back the clock. Being under England's control had been easy but America had learned quickly that he didn't want easy and he had found a rhythm to life as a country.

He had watched England, saw her power crescendo and then ebb away but to he never stopped admiring her and the moment that he could stand beside her as an ally he took it. 

He saw her ravaged by the Second World War, destruction literally on her doorstep but she spoke of nothing but victory and after Pearl harbour she had taken time to comfort him. 

He had wanted to blurt out his heart to her then, in the midst of the blitz hoping that she would draw strength from him but England hadn't taken his declaration of love seriously, oh she had been kind and gentle, even in her exhaustion but it had been a rejection and it had kept America up all night on hundreds of occasions. 

He as all the power in the world but he hasnt the strengh to end it because it may hurt but he loves being with England loves the tedious meetings and conferences because he loves her, loves spending time with her and he can't pull himself away. 

Only kiku has offered support and a hope that sometime England may change, after all who knows more about the isolationism of an island nation better then another one?

England trusts him with everything, state secrets, information and many other aspects but she doesn't trust him with her heart. The fact that she trusts almost no one with her heart is a tiny consolation.  
America doesn't know how to explain himself better, he has only one option left. 

Confrontation

Francis had advised him against this, England's symbol was a lion for a reason, she would not appreciate being cornered and America would not like the result but what else was there?

Kiku had found him an old photo, a world meeting he supposed noting the countries involved but his eyes were drawn to the two figures in the centre. He had felt England shaking beside him during the pictures and without thinking he had handed her his jacket. It had completely dwarfed her but he remembered the gratitude on England's face, the way her features softened, he had moved to fix her collar and found her in his arms, all he had to to was bend and he would be kissing her and somehow he had know she would have let him if their attention had t been diverted.

He had to know the truth. 

 

The G8 meeting was being held in Washington next week, he would tell her then. And if she couldn't give him the answer he wanted America knew he had to at least try to move on.

 

England's attic was magically enhanced that was to say glamoured to hold more than it seemed. 

England loved the attic, she forced herself to sit and sift through the especially hard memories, to relive the bad things she had done to those she loved, a lancing as it were. She didn't understand how she could be forgiven after all she had done but somehow she was and now all her former dependents thrived and moreover wanted her in their lives to varying degrees.

But there were good memories too but simetimes they were harder than looking at the bad ones. 

One photo in particular caught her eye, it was a meeting a world meeting although she couldn't place where it was set, she and America were in the middle of a group picture and on her shoulders was America ridiculous jacket. 

She remembered the feel of the warm material against her skin, soaking in the warmth in provided and inhaling the scent of America. It had been warm in the morning she recalled but had turned colder sharply and she had no coat and so america had placed his coat around her shoulders. She could feel the ghost of his hands on her shoulders, warm and gentle and filled with feeling. And she remembered looking at him for a moment and really seeing him and felt a large lump in her throat. He had been so close she could have kissed him without even turning her head very far and she wondered.. 

England thrust the photo back inside the box.

Some memories were best left in the past.


	8. Postponed chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to love your family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters 
> 
> Fem!Austraila: Kylie "Kye"  
> Fem!NewZealand: Natasha "Tash" "Zee"

As it turns out America has no chance to speak privately with England. The whole conference is scheduled down to the last minute and all he can do is take comfort in her nearness. 

It's another month when another conference rolls around in London that finally gives him an opening. England invites him to stay at her house for Christmas and he takes the chance. 

It's a chance to see England in her own element, although they spend a lot of time together he rarely sees her casually, he remembers England in less formal clothing as a child when she would be free from the constrains of her Empire to simply relax with her colony. 

He has never been invited to England's home- her real home not the official resident in London. England has always been very careful to keep international business away from her home. He hopes this is the only reason why he had not been invited over before. 

He tries not to feel the sting when he realises that Australia and Canada and New Zealand feel at home here, sprawling across furniture and generally treating it as an extension of their own home. 

He has long since trained himself not to feel jealousy regarding the other former colonies- he doesn't view them as family, the only common denominator between them all is England and he doesn't really interact with any of the others except Australia and his own twin.but the jealousy at their familiarity with England burns, his exasperation at his own feelings don't help much either. Despite what people may think he's not stupid he gets that he is being foolish but loving England from the beginning had been foolish and he didn't know how to stop that either. 

He settles into the overstuffed chair, belly heavy with the Christmas meal that Australia had cooked them and watches as England sits on the floor iPad in hand as New Zealand and Australia begin to braid her hair. 

England is almost completely relaxed, body loose and easy, she feels safe here surrounded by her family. There is little need for the mask she shows to the rest of the world. America wishes he could see her like this all the time. 

He catches her eye as she glances upwards and a small soft smile graces her features. America returns the gesture, he wonders what she sees on his face for a minute later she turns away, curling her hair behind her ear, causing Australia to complain about ruining her work. 

X

The only excitement comes when they are settling down for the night the living room floor is littered with pillows and sleeping bags at Australia's insistence "it'll be like a slumber party" 

England has moved onto the sofa and much to everyone's displeasure has begun to review a piece of legislation that will go through parliament in the next month. 

She doesn't look up when New Zealand offers a mug of tea. A moment after taking the beverage America recoils back in his seat as the mug is thrown in his direction. 

"What the fuck?" England demands, her arm is extended from where she threw the mug and she looks just as surprised as America. 

America glances at the broken pieces of china littering the floor, it looks like a harmless cup of tea. He can't think of a reason why England would throw it at him. 

"I thought we were over this poisoning each other shit!" England's voice was enraged, she spun around addressing the small window between the kitchen and living room. 

"We weren't trying to poison you!" Scotland's caustic voice returned as the older nation poked his head through the window. "Ungrateful brat!"

"Fuck you Alba!" England yelled back, without looking back at the mess on the carpet the island nation stood and stalked up the stairs. 

The ensuing silence was deafening. 

"Well that worked well," Jersey murmured as she walked into the living room, dust pan and brush in hand. 

"It was a dumb idea anyway," Wales agreed. Scotland shot his brother a betrayed look. 

"I didn't see you suggest anything better. Damn sixth sense she's got."

"It's not like she hasn't got reason to be suspicious we all helped nurture that sixth sense. If Francis hadn't tried to poison her--" 

"Look it was a stupid idea we all agree," Jersey interrupted before Scotland could come up with a defence for his lover. "We shouldn't have gone for a direct hit. England is too smart for that."

"Yeah well we tried talking to her but she won't listen to any of us when we tell her to rest. We're getting to desperate measures here. Do you want a repeat of what happened after the war?" Wales said. 

The nations exchanged worried looks. Suddenly as if the thought had just come to her Jersey motioned to America. 

"Come help me dump this in the bin," 

America followed unsure of what was happening. He couldn't help but wonder just how much England was keeping from him. 

Once they were in the relative privacy of the kitchen Jersey emptied the shards of china into the bin. America waited. 

"Sorry about that," Jersey said. 

"What were you doing to England's tea? Why did she react like that?"

Jersey sighed, "we're worried about England. She's working so hard lately and she won't listen to us." She nodded to the dustbin, "that was our clumsy attempt at subterfuge. You saw how well it worked out"

America felt torn, on one hand he knew that what the others had done was wrong-and stupid but he could understand why. England was incredibly stubborn sometimes. 

"Should I go talk to her?"

Jersey shook her head, "no, best let her cool down a little." She grinned, a little maliciously, "she probably won't kill you," 

"That's not reassuring," America said. 

Jerseys answer was a grin; that wasn't reassuring either. 

X 

Scotland blew a ring of smoke into the night sky as he waited for the phone to connect. After the debacle with England he needed some fresh air. 

After a moment the phone connected and he felt a rush of adrenaline as France answered, voice well modulated and exotic as ever. 

"Merry Christmas Cher," 

"Hey," 

"I am glad to hear your voice," France continued and Scotland almost choked on his drag of the cigarette. The cold wind was a welcome relief to his flushed cheeks. 

"Yeah?"

"It is always such a trying time when you spend time with your siblings I always anticipate much drama and bloodshed."

"Not so much bloodshed anymore," Scotland said, but he couldn't deny that the British isles siblings still found as much drama as ever. 

"I wish I were there to enjoy the action you know I love dramas." France said, his voice low and full of amusement. 

"There's enough drama between you an' England without throwing Christmas into the mix," 

"True enough," France conceded, the amusement clear as day. "But who else can keep dear Angleterre if I do not? That sharp wit of hers will undoubtedly dull with disuse." 

Scotland chuckled, no matter how bad his rivalry with England became it paled in comparison to the one between England and France even though the red headed nation knew they cared about each other more than they would ever admit bad nowadays the worst had past between them. The rivalry was almost purely reflexive then with any genuine animosity. 

"I didn't call you to talk about England though I'm pretty sure Im in the doghouse anyway-ill tell you later" he added when france sounded like he was going to ask more questions. 

"Listen I'm gonna have some free time next week, do you want to meet up?" 

It's a deceptively simple request, they've both offered up a similar phrase when the itch needed to be scratched but this time Scotland needed to talk, something they had never been very good at. 

"I think maybe we should talk" 

It sounds so much like one of the wet soaps that Wales loves (and denies he watches) that Scotland inwardly cringes but he knows that if he doesn't do this now it's more than likely hell let himself be swept up with simply being with France and nothing will ever change. 

Before he can bottle it France is agreeing, voice still low but serious and he seems to be on the verge of saying something but before he can get a grip on what the other is saying he is called back into the house. 

He says goodbye and somehow it feels different but he can't think of any significant change. Maybe it's just dumb hope that France seems to be open to at least talking. 

Still facing France will still be easier than facing England in the mood she is inevitably in now. He's not going to hear the end of this for a while. England will automatically assume her family gave it in fir her instead of actually stopping and thinking that maybe her family cares, and sure he could have handled it better but he just wishes England wouldn't always jump to the worst case scenario when it comes to her family. Of course, he will allow hasn't always given England a chance. 

So basically they have to undo over a thousand years of ingrained suspicion and distrust and hurt.

Yeah, talking to France will be easy in comparison.


End file.
